


Forgotten Birthday

by Whythehellnot0000



Series: Emily and Penelope are an underrated couple [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Birthday, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Happy Ending, Kinda, Mentions of Annie (original soundtrack), Mild Angst, Pre-Slash, Star Trek References, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:49:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25732375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whythehellnot0000/pseuds/Whythehellnot0000
Summary: Emily Prentiss doesn't celebrate her birthday. Penelope Garcia changes that. Emily's birthdays through the years and how meeting Penelope allows her to trust again.
Relationships: Penelope Garcia/Emily Prentiss
Series: Emily and Penelope are an underrated couple [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1866556
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	Forgotten Birthday

Emily Prentiss hated her birthday. When she was a child her parents would make a big deal out of it and invite all of her schoolmates. The buzzing of children almost made her forget that she didn’t really know any of them and would probably move away soon. Her favorite part was when her father would surprise her with chocolate chip pancakes in the morning. Then, after whatever elaborate party her mother threw, she would fall asleep to Annie while listening to the tape on the couch with her dad. Emily would rest her head against his shoulder and he would run his fingers through her hair and she would feel so safe and loved and warm that she fell asleep as soon as Annie sang “I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here.” 

Then her father died. Her mother was an important woman and, despite her husband’s warmth and care towards Emily, she had managed to instill the importance of saving face to her daughter. So Emily pushed down the pain of losing her father and managed to become the picture perfect daughter. The birthday parties were impersonal and a means of connection rather than friendship. Her mother invited fellow diplomats’ kids and the other children from Emily’s international schools as an attempt to sprout roots in each place they moved. October was the best month to get to know other families. Early enough that neither Emily nor her mother knew everyone but late enough that they didn’t leave anyone important out of the party. 

On her 13th birthday, Emily had enough of hiding her pain. She was sick and tired of dressing up in pretty dresses and pretending to like a new group of classmates every year and she missed her father and his pancakes and falling asleep to Annie. 

“Go get dressed, Emily,” her mother instructed. “Your new dress is laid out on the bed. Be sure to wear the tights this time. I can’t have a repeat of last year. Ambassador Khan would not ignore that I allowed my daughter to be improperly dressed.”

“Yes mother.” Emily suppressed rolling her eyes, she had a lot of practice with that particular impulse, and nodded. 

Her mother sniffed and turned to supervise the party preparations, leaving Emily to contemplate the pale pink lace dress in front of her. The gem studded belt taunted her from its place on the bed. Emily couldn’t suppress the wave of disgust. She was old enough to pick out her own clothes. She was a teenager now, that’s practically an adult. Who needed Annie anymore anyways? The dress on her bed remained untouched as she searched for something better to wear, something that fit her better. Then she spotted the bag in the back of her closet. That was perfect. 

Emily had met Mary in August when she was getting a new uniform for school. Emily had been left alone for a moment as her current annoying babysitter, Emily wasn’t a baby and she objected to the older woman’s presence, was out doing other shopping. Mary was older, maybe 15, and wore dark eyeliner and black lipstick and nail polish and Emily couldn’t look away. After she had tried on the uniform, Mary had changed back into her normal clothes which were also black. Emily eyed the black collared button down shirt and the matching leather jacket. Mary met her eyes and smirked. 

“I’m Mary,” the older girl said. “Do you go to the international school?”

“Emily,” she responded. Was it just her or did she sound breathless? “And we just moved here so I’m just starting.”

“Why don’t I show you around, Emily? I know all of the best places.”

Suddenly Emily had a friend. Mary took her a couple shops over and Emily glanced behind her to check for her minder. There was no sign of the older woman so Emily followed Mary into the shop. She emerged 30 minutes later with a new all black outfit and a pack of cigarettes tucked deep in her bag and a new friend to spend time with on her first day of school. 

It had been two months and Emily had yet to brave the wrath of her mother by trying on her new outfit. This was her chance. Mary was invited to the party despite her mother’s doubts because of Mary’s father’s position. He was a very important contact and Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss would not allow a man of such importance to slip through her fingers without at least an introduction. Emily waited until Mary showed up, putting in time at the party in her dress before dragging Mary into her room. Together they dressed Emily up and Emily relished the feeling of rebellion. She grinned as Mary sat in front of her carefully tracing her eyes with thick eyeliner and painting her lips with lipstick. Emily could feel the older girl's breath against her cheeks and her hand resting lightly against Emily’s skin for balance as she worked. 

When it was all done Emily admired herself in the mirror. She looked amazing. A quiet, “Perfect” slipped through her lips and Mary’s reflection smirked in the mirror next to her. 

“Ready to rock the house?”

“Let’s go.”

They managed to make it outside without anyone noticing but as soon as Emily opened the door and stepped into the light the energy of the party dissipated. Elizabeth was facing away from the door but turned around at the hush. Emily watched as her mother took in her appearance: the shock, the momentary anger quickly disguised by her public mask, her indifference hiding her true feelings. Emily loved knowing that her mother wanted to admonish her but couldn’t yell at her properly without making her look bad in front of her contacts. At the same time, if she condoned this type of behavior in her own daughter Elizabeth could be viewed as weak willed or judged by her peers. Emily had trapped her mother between two options that made her look bad in one way or another and the satisfaction was worth whatever consequences her mother could dole out. 

“Emily, how lovely of you to join us. Why don’t you join me in the kitchen for a moment.” It wasn’t a question. Emily could refuse, that’s what Mary would do, but decided she had proven her point well enough and reluctantly followed her mother inside. 

“What on Earth were you thinking Emily Elizabeth Prentiss? Making me look bad like that in front of all your friends. You disgrace our image like this and expect me to be okay with this? How dare you? You will go to your room and change out of that filth immediately or stay there until everyone else is gone. Do you understand me?”

“Fine,” Emily mumbled. 

“What was that?”

“Yes mother,” she replied louder. 

“Good.” 

Emily slouched off to her room. 

“Stand up straight!” Her mother called after her. Needless to say, her mother never threw her another birthday party.

That night Mary helped her sneak out to the river where they joined Mary’s friends. Emily spent the night trying new things and by her fourteenth birthday she knew how to celebrate properly. 

The next time Emily celebrated her birthday that didn’t include getting wasted she was 25 and it wasn’t her birthday, it was Laruen Reynolds. It was June and hotter than it had ever been for her birthday. The Mediterranean is hot and sometimes uncomfortably humid. She’s in a light, white dress and matching heels that she moves confidently across the patio in. Ian Doyle threw the garden party and Emily tries her best to smile through the whole event. Oh if her 16 year old self could see her now. Dressed like her mother always dreamed her to look and drinking champagne while laughing with her boyfriend. Emily was glad this life belonged to Lauren and that someday she would shed this life.

She lived with Doyle for so long and so thoroughly that she forgot her actual birthday. Her life didn’t belong to her for so long that she forgot it even mattered. Even the bitterness of her father’s death was absent. As the day passed without acknowledgement so did any thought of childhood traditions. 

***

When she finally arrived at the BAU it was November. The air was getting crisp and she was weary of her coworkers as soon as she started. Hotch already knew her and had met her when she was in college after she had grown out of her goth phase but before she had become an agent of any kind. He doubted her credential and she didn’t blame him. Going undercover for so long left gaps in her background that needed to be filled and what better way to fill it than an unremarkable career in the midwest. She needed to prove herself to the team but she didn’t need them to really know her. When had anyone ever needed to know her?

That was where Penelope came in. Her easy banter with Morgan and willingness to flirt with anyone including Emily allowed her to worm her way past Emily’s defenses. Her open expression as a nerd while maintaining her flirting shook Emily to her core. She never expected to connect so much with someone else, let alone a coworker. One thing she learned from years in espionage and living with a politician was that everyone has an endgame, a face they show others while they hide their true intentions. 

Penelope baffled her. In Emily’s eyes, Penelope seemed to have stumbled into the BAU and settled in so well it would be impossible to picture the team without her. Without her notice Emily had become friends with first Penelope then Derek and Hotch and JJ and eventually Reid. She allowed herself to flirt back to Penelope. It was nerve wracking and she was afraid it was something that was reserved for Penelope and Derek, but the absolute glee in Penelope’s voice as she responded was worth every worry she had. 

A couple weeks later she reveals a failed date to Derek. She changes the pronouns because she’s at work and even though Derek and Penelope definitely suspect something she can’t confirm anything while in the FBI, inside a government building. But she keeps the rest of the story the same. Another date that ended with her nerd references not being appreciated by the women of DC and Virginia. This time it was Slaughter-House Five. Apparently some people don’t appreciate verbatim Vonnegut quotes. Another time she was so engaged in the conversation she forgot not to make a Star Trek reference. Another time she mentioned a recent psychology study she had read. When does the point come where she was allowed to talk about her passions unapologetically? One year? Two? 

That was why she could listen to Penelope speak for hours. She was unapologetically passionate about everything and even when she was on a case she could make casual nerdy references and flirt in the same sentence. 

After she had been there almost 6 months her mother showed up and suddenly Emily was forced to reconcile her personal life with her work life. She tries to be the daughter her mother wants her to be and plays nice with the victims. The perfect politician’s daughter, and yet her mother still takes every opportunity to steamroll her. Emily can’t bring herself to leave her mother alone on the case and, as much as she would like to accompany Reid, Gideon, and Derek to the victims house, she follows her mother’s search for old contacts. 

She watches the team lose Natalya as she drives away and realizes that there is nothing they could have done. The case had been over as soon as it had begun. She can’t take the helpless feeling that comes with that thought.

In the end, Emily has dinner with her mother. It’s tense and awkward, overall not as awful as dinners were in high school but not something she would like to repeat any time soon. When dinner is over, she retreats to her apartment and turns on the tv trying to drown out the memories of her mother yelling at her in high school. 

That night Emily is surprised by a knock on the door. She pulls a sweatshirt over her tank top and sweats and peers through the peephole. Her brows furrow and she frowns at the figure on the other side of the door. 

“Penelope?” she asks as she opens the door. Penelope Garcia stands outside confidently with a large sparkly handbag on her arm. Her expression turns sheepish when she sees Emily’s frown. 

“I thought you might need a pick-me-up?” She sounds less confident but pulls a bottle of red wine out of her bag. Emily sighs but opens the door wider. 

“Come in,” she concedes. There is no arguing with a persistent Penelope Garcia and frankly right now Emily needs the company. Once she’s inside, Penelope sets the wine on the counter and turns back to her bag and extracts a gallon of icecream. There are swirls of caramel and chunks of chocolate and it looks upsettingly sweet. Emily can’t wait to crack it open. 

“Do I want to know how you got this address?” she asks, pulling wine glasses from the cabinets. 

“Probably better not to ask,” Penelope admits with a grin and Emily can’t help her own small smile. She pours two generous glasses of wine and hands one to Penelope before taking a long sip from her own. 

“Feel free to make yourself at home,” Emily offers and she is shocked by how at ease she feels with Penelope in her space. She shakes her head to clear her thoughts and moves towards the couch. Penelope had set her wine on a coaster and was knelt down next to the TV searching through the DVDs there. 

“Aha!” she exclaims. Without letting Emily see what she selected, Penelope put it in the dvd player and joined Emily on the couch. “Go on, turn it on!” 

Emily laughs and turns on the TV and is met with the title screen of the original Star Trek series. 

“How– Where–” She stutters for a second before giving up. “I can’t believe you found that.” She shakes her head. 

“What’s this? The amazingly talented, beautiful goddess Emily Prestiss is a closet nerd?” 

“Those DVDs were behind a false back. How did you even find them?” 

“You doubt my sleuthing skills, Emily? I’m hurt,” Penelope gasps dramatically with a hand on her chest. “I can always sense the presence of Spock. Also I used that trick in college to hide the good stuff from nosy roommates. I know a false back when I see one.”

Emily laughs again, her brief alarm soothed by Penelope, and raises her hands. “Fine, fine, I surrender. You are the most talented detective I know.”

“And don’t you forget it.” Penelope winks at her and Emily grins. She hasn’t joked like this in a long time. 

“I’ll get the ice cream if you can choose an episode.” 

“Deal,” Penelope agrees. Emily retreats to the kitchen for dessert, grabbing the half full bottle of wine just in case, and returns to the couch to find the first episode queued up. 

“Why not start at the beginning,” Penelope says as she hits play. They both relax into the couch and Emily allows the stress of the day and the feeling of her mother looming over her disappear. 

***

A couple weeks later Emily goes out to O’Keefe’s with JJ and Penelope a few weeks later. Emily can’t tell if Penelope knows or just suspects her dating taste but she doesn’t think JJ has any idea. She’s always been a good actor, Ambassador Prentiss almost guaranteed it, but flirting with men for the job and flirting with Brad fall in similar categories– flirting with a goal of either apprehending an unsub or humiliating them because they presume she has to be interested in them. They all laugh as they pull out their badges. Emily hopes Penelope can’t tell that flirting with Brad was more fictional than when Emily flirts with the technical analyst herself. 

***

She had been at the BAU for almost a year. Penelope had instituted weekly, as close to weekly as possible, Star Trek nights on Fridays. Emily didn’t mourn the loss of her Fridays. When she did risk going on dates, Fridays had never been reliable due to her job so removing that day from her not-so-social calendar was fine with her. Penelope was a more reliable date than anyone else she had ever dated. Even platonically, her Friday nights made this the healthiest and most stable relationship of her life. 

It was a normal evening and the nights were starting to get cooler. The school near Emily’s apartment had started up again a few weeks ago and she was enjoying the sounds of fall through her open windows. Her black cat, Sergio, was curled up on her lap and she was re-reading Kurt Vonnegut. The team was between cases which left her Friday evening free. She would have carpooled with Penelope back to her place for their Star Trek date but the other woman had insisted she had to pick something up from her own apartment. 

She jumps up at the knock on her door because, despite her anticipation of company, she has learned that keeping her door locked at all times. When she checks the peephole she is once again surprised by Penelope, this time because she is holding a cake. 

“Surprise!” Penelope cries as soon as the door opens.

“What’s the occasion?” Emily asks as Penelope lets herself in. 

“Oh sugarplum,” Penelope laughs and gestures at the cake. “Use those big beautiful eyes of yours.” 

Emily looks down at the cake. Happy Birthday Emily! It reads. “Penelope, what did you do?”

“Em,” Penelope says softly. “Don’t you know what day it is?”

“Yeah, of course I do. It’s Friday. That’s why you’re here.”

“Emily it’s your birthday. I know I shouldn’t have but I have the whole team’s birthday in my calendar and I was going to bring it up at work but then you didn’t acknowledge it so I thought you just didn’t want people at work to know and you know Derek or Reid would have called you out on it if we all weren’t still thrown by Gideon disappearing and you tried to resign so I wanted to surprise you because you deserve people to acknowledge how special you are and how much you mean to me–well all of us really–so I added your birthday to my calendar a couple weeks after you started working with the BAU and I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable or if I invaded your privacy. Please don’t hate me.”

“Penelope, hey, it’s okay. I guess I forgot it was my birthday. I haven’t really celebrated it since I was a kid. I don’t mind that you looked it up. To be completely honest I’m not at all surprised that you would do something like this–” Penelope flinches. “No, not like that. Please. It was very thoughtful and I am honored that you would go to all of this trouble just for me.” Emily soothes. “Did you bake this yourself? It looks delicious.” 

“I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve it.” Penelope whispers. 

“Thank you,” Emily answers, trying to convey the sincerity she feels.

“I care about you, maybe more than you know, and you deserve the world.” Emily barely thinks about it before she reaches for Penelope and pulls her into a hug. A quiet “oh” emerges from Penelope and it just makes Emily hold on tighter. They hold on to each other for a long moment, comforting each other in the silence and peace of the night sounds that drift through the open window. 

“Now come on,” Emily says briskly, breaking the silence. “This cake isn’t going to eat itself.” Penelope smiles. 

“You know, it’s not too late for me to invite the others over. We could crack open some tequila, have a real party?” Penelope suggests. 

“Why don’t we have a party together tomorrow. I think I’d rather have a quiet evening tonight. Besides that will give me time to decorate. We can’t throw a party looking like this.” She laughs and Penelope agrees. She guides Emily to the couch. 

“Now don’t you do anything. You may not want a party tonight but you can get some pampering. Sit! Put your feet back, princess, because you my wonderful birthday girl, are getting the royal treatment tonight.” 

Emily laughs but follows Penelope’s instructions. She twists on the couch to watch Penelope reach into cabinets, plating cake and pouring wine. It’s surprising to see someone else so comfortable in her home and it warms her to know that not only is Penelope willing to do this but that she knows Emily won’t object with her presence and taking charge for a moment. 

She rests her chin on crossed arms on the back of the couch content to just watch. Penelope is finishing up in the kitchen but instead of looking away like she normally would, Emily allows herself to get caught staring. Penelope meets her eyes. Emily can feel her breath catch as she watches Penelope put her kitchen bounty down on the coffee table and Emily follows the movement, twisting back to face the TV as Penelope moves. 

It’s almost like they’re mesmerized by each other, caught in an invisible forcefield, unable to break eye contact. Penelope joins Emily on the couch. She can feel the energy between them and thinks that she might risk leaning in towards Penelope. The moment is broken by a beep from Garcia’s phone. 

“Oh, god.” Penelope scrambles to find her phone. “I forgot to mention that I may have ordered a little tiny bit of chow for the birthday celebrations. Just some pizza from Joe’s that you told me was for special occasions only. Anyways it’s here now. I’ll be right back!” Suddenly the space next to Emily is empty and the loss of Penelope’s warmth is palpable. The door clicks shut and Emily sighs. Instead of losing more time thinking about the lost moment she turns on the TV and brings up their current Star Trek episode. They were almost through with the original series and Emily was excited to watch the next series. 

Garcia is back soon enough with a pile of pizza, mozzarella sticks, and breadsticks. The women sit close on the couch, closer than they had been on previous Star Trek nights but neither mention it. 

They’re a couple episodes in and the leftover pizza is packed away in the fridge and Emily is feeling the wine. She opens another bottle and a giggle escapes her. 

“I can’t believe I forgot my own birthday,” she says suddenly. “I mean who even does that?”

“When was the last time you celebrated?” Penelope asks.

“Sober or not sober?” Emily responds without thinking and doesn’t notice the other woman frown.

“What about the last time you had a party?” Penelope suggests hoping for something lighter. 

“Thirteen. I was thirteen. Mother made me wear a dress and then I changed and she didn’t like that so she said no more parties. Apparently the Ambassador doesn’t like it when people don’t fit her image.” Emily scoffs. 

“What about before that? Did you do anything fun? Did you have any special places to go?”

“We moved around too much to go anywhere but Father always made me chocolate chip pancakes. I forgot we used to do that. He’d make pancakes in the morning and I’d pretend I was surprised and that I hadn't thought about those pancakes the whole month before my birthday. We’d eat together before mother dragged me into whatever party she planned for my classmates parents to come to. I’d make an appearance, prove that she was raising a civilized little politician I guess, and at night Father would tuck me in and we would listen to Annie.”

“That sounds wonderful, Em,” Penelope says and she reaches over to squeeze Emily’s hands. The feeling grounds her. The wine made her feel wonderfully floaty but the memories of her father were almost too much and without Penelope’s touch she thought she might float away entirely. 

“He was a bad singer but sometimes we would sing along to the tape together. We watched it whenever we could. He used to love musicals. Mother hated them but we loved them. No matter what country we were in or what language it played in we were there to see it. The tape was as close as we could get to the real thing. He would have loved being able to watch it at home together.” Penelope squeezes her hands again. 

“We should watch it. Make a new birthday tradition.” Penelope suggests. Emily just nods. 

“If we do you have to promise to pet my hair, got it? I’m not missing out on the best part of my lost birthday traditions unless you do all of it.”

“You got it honey bunches of oats.” Penelope replies and brushes one hand through Emily’s hair, tucking it behind one ear. They smile at each other before Emily burrows into the back of the couch and focuses back on the screen. When Penelope glances over a few moments later, Emily is fast asleep.

***

The next year Penelope wakes up early to make chocolate chip pancakes and brings them to Emily in bed. They have a barbeque with the team in the afternoon and Penelope silently thanks the universe that it’s a Sunday and there are no cases this weekend. That night Penelope wraps Emily up in her arms and they lay together on the couch and watch Annie on DVD. It’s perfect and Emily whispers a quiet “thank you” and an even quieter “I love you” into Penelope's ear before falling asleep to the feeling of fingers running through her hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! This is unedited so lmk if I make any errors! Comment, kudos, all that good stuff! This is my first published work on ao3 so I'm excited to see what happens


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